There was this painter, the question of gender is not to be
considered important, but for the sake of conversation and English
dictation, let us imagine the painter as a man. He had not always
painted, but one day decided, and it was when his painting was
complete that he realized his potential. After a few more canvases
he took his work to the street and began to sell his art. One
person in particular was permeable in the business of arts, as
their luxurious suit crumbled with each movement. The rich man's
fingers pointed to one of the paintings and handed over a thick wad
of cash to the painter and handed him a ticket to a Gallery, his
Gallery. The painter was flustered with excitement and accepted the
offer, and promised to visit his painting in the gallery when it
was to open.

Time had passed, weeks, months, and it was when the moon was
fullest in the skies of march when the Gallery was finally open.
The painter stood in line with the rest, walked across the gallery
and appreciated the various forms of art. In the horizon he noticed
an aggressive group of individuals having a heated discussion over
a particular piece. As he neared the piece he noticed it was his
painting. Delighted, he listened to the conversations, but with
slight interest.

"Its a beautiful dragon spitting eggs out of its mouth" came one
lady.

"No its a tea house with a wind mill falling into the core of the
earth" came another man.

Ultimately each had their own perspective and there was no common
ground, after this was realized they had all acknowledged each
others opinion but not the painter. They asked him, and he stood up
with pride and simply said, "Its an elephant holding an umbrella".

Everyone laughed and scoffed, one person blurted "I kinda see it
but, I'm not sure".

The painter was amused and said nothing in reply for the lights
dimmed and all became silent. The focus of attention was to that of
a gentleman in a suit worth more than the jewelery on each person.
His black dress shoes clicked all the way as he approached the
group with the painting. He looked it over and said, "Ah I remember
this one, it is my absolute favorite piece and I found it off some
random street artist."

His voice cleared the phlegm, or perhaps it was for dramatic affect
as he noticed the edge of the eyes as they danced with him being
the focus.

His shoulders straightened as he said, "This painting is of a
giraffe choking in a small room". Everyone around him began
exasperating ooh's and aah's. Congratulations was in order for he
was able to bring everyone to a common perspective, his own. The
Rich man than noticed everyone was admiring him but one. He
directed a question to the one, "What do you see my fellow?"

The painter looked behind him to confirm the question directed at
him and answered, "An elephant holding an umbrella". The painter's
shoulders were slouched, his voice was nonchalantly dull, his suit
was ragged and poor, and it generated a burst of laughter amongst
the audience. The rich man laughed, and then turned his attention
away from the scorn of the painter and to the comforting audience.

The painter was furious and spat on the painting, and stormed out,
not before taking his painting with him.

The rich man was offended and ran after him, yelling, "someone stop
that thief"!

The painter froze in his tracks, turned around and looked the rich
man right in the eyes and said, "The only thief here is you". He
then pointed to the rest of the patrons and gave them salutations
of a vulgar gesture. The painting was left on the floor as he
walked away. The rich man stood alone in a circle of people staring
at the floor wondering what he could have done to make such a bloke
so furious. Something about that man was so familiar... the
painter! He remembered. Then clenching for his own throat, he felt
asphyxiated. The walls were no longer so distant, and he found them
caving in all around him. Hundreds of eyes poured all around him as
he truly felt like a giraffe.